Sometimes you think it’s over. Moments – gone. Emotions – gone. Memories – fading. And you really think it’s over. So you accept it and move on. And then sometime later you find out, that it’s not over at all. That’s what happened with my film in Kenya. My rusty soviet Zenit camera jammed and I ripped the film into two pieces by force. With the prying eye of one fine Italian fellow who opened my camera to have a peek what’s up with the roll, it got bombarded by millions of photons. Opened in direct sunlight on a boat on water that reflected most of it back at…